


I Wouldn't Leave You If You'd Let Me

by queerofthedagger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Possessive Tom Riddle, Protective Harry Potter, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), same age au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 13:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofthedagger/pseuds/queerofthedagger
Summary: Harry and Tom both grow up in Wool's Orphanage during the 1930's. Harry is 2,5 years older, and as soon as Tom can move on his own, he starts following him around, barely tolerating anyone else. So it falls to Harry to look after the quiet child everyone else finds a bit weird, but it's not like he minds.





	1. Wool's Orphanage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alexiel_19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexiel_19/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Alexiel_19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexiel_19/pseuds/Alexiel_19) in the [TomarryFlashExchanges](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TomarryFlashExchanges) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Hi, so it goes like this. Harry is older than Tom (your choice for how much) and has been in the orphanage before him after his parents death or murder (your choice). Harry's tasked to look after baby Riddle by the matron whenever she can't.  
And so Tom Riddle grows up a bit differently since he has someone on his corner. Harry is the one who figures out that they both have some kind of power that they can somehow control.
> 
> There you go, the rest is up to you.
> 
> Okay, so I saw this prompt, and then it completely ran away with me. This is what came out of it, and I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing this, just like with the whole fest in general. <3
> 
> Belated note, because I'm a forgetful idiot: I shifted Harry's birthday a month back onto the 31th August, so he starts Hogwarts a year later.

”Harry!” Miss Coles shrill voice makes him wince and he quickly leaves his spot on the old and rusty swings, running over to the entrance of the orphanage where she is waiting for him.

Before he can get a word out, she grips his arm and pulls him through the dimly lit corridor and up the stairs. He can barely keep up and stumbles a few times, but her iron grip on his arm keeps him from falling down the stairs.

“Tom won’t let me dress him, so you have to do it. I don’t know why, but you’re the only one he lets close without throwing a tantrum,” she says, and it’s unmistakable how annoyed she is by this.

Harry doesn’t say anything until her nails dig even harder through the thin material of his shirt. “Do you understand me?” she snaps, and he quickly nods.

“Yes, Miss.”

She pushes him into the room they just arrived at and leaves without another word. He sighs, making his way over to the crib occupied by a small boy. Tom is only 1,5 years and the youngest child in the orphanage, and for reasons nobody knows he decided some time ago that Harry was the only one he tolerated. Some of the adults say they could be brothers, but unlike his hair, Tom’s locks are actually tameable, and his eyes are a bright blue instead of green.

Ever since Tom learned to crawl, he follows Harry whenever he can, screaming and hitting at everybody else who comes close or tries to take him away. By now it’s a common occurrence that Harry is called to dress and feed and play with Tom. Well, ‘play’ might be the wrong word. Tom is a quiet child as long as Harry is close, most of the time just sitting in his crib or on the floor and observing his surroundings.

Many of the other orphans find him creepy, and Harry thinks that most of the adults agree with them. Harry doesn’t care much if he’s honest. Sure, it’s strange that Tom is so fixated on him, but he likes being needed and it led to the adults teaching him all kinds of things. If Tom hadn’t chosen him, he would have been viewed as too young to care for him, considering that he’s only 2,5 years older than the other boy.

Tom doesn’t stay in one of the dorms because he’s still so small, instead, his crib stands in a small, dingy antechamber to Ms. Cole’s office. It doesn’t even have a window, only a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that makes a continuous, buzzing noise when turned on. Harry thinks it’s even more horrible than the other dorms, but when he asked if Tom can stay with him, all he got was a slap to the back of his head and the reprimand to mind his own business.

“Hey kid,” he smiles at Tom who watches him with wide eyes, before lifting his arms in a silent command to be picked up.

Harry laughs but obeys, heaving the child out of the ramshackle crib. He staggers a bit under the weight but manages to sit them both down on the cold stone floor. 

“You have to be careful, Tom, I don’t know for how long Ms. Cole will keep playing after your fiddle,” he admonishes softly while struggling to put socks on Tom’s small feet. It’s not long since Harry even learned to dress himself, but they get there eventually.

Tom doesn’t react, but he keeps still and obediently raises his arms when Harry grabs the jumper Ms. Cole left on the chair.

“Come on then, it’s dinner time soon,” Harry says when they’re finished and grabs Tom’s hand. He isn’t all that good with walking on his own yet and allows only Harry to hold his hand, but it works for them.

They make their way into the dining hall and to their table. One of the older kids shouts: “Oh look, Harry has to look after the _baby_ again,” but Harry ignores him. It’s a common occurrence, the other children teasing him over having to care for Tom, but he never reacts to it when the smaller boy is around.

He helps Tom with his food in between eating his own dinner, telling him about a fairy tale one of the volunteers told them last night to distract him from the stale taste of the porridge.

* * *

Tom’s attachment doesn’t change over the years. He learns to dress and eat by himself, but he never tolerates anyone else close to him, and as soon as he can walk on his own, he finds Harry anywhere.

Harry for his part enjoys his presence by his side. The only downside is that the bullying only gets worse. He doesn’t understand why it bothers them so much, but he has learned early on that children could be terribly cruel.

If Ms. Cole is to be believed, Harry arrived at the orphanage at the age of 1, and many of his first memories include other kids stealing his food, pushing him around and destroying his clothes so he would get in trouble.

Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so protective of Tom; the younger boy clings to him instead of competing against him for a scrap of attention, and he doesn’t want him to make the same experience of having to fight for himself.

So when he’s 6, running out of the orphanage after having finished his chores, and sees a few children pushing Tom around, he loses his temper for the first time.

Whenever they do that to him, he goes with the strategy of run-and-hide, never really bothering to defend himself.

But they don’t get to push around _Tom_. He picks up a few stones from the side of the path and takes aims. He hesitates only for a second; not because he cares about the bullies, but because he doesn’t want to hit Tom on accident. But then, Tom’s eyes meet his and somehow he seems to understand, so Harry puts all his strength behind the throw and hits the boy who is currently kicking Tom right on the head, _hard_.

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, just throwing stone after stone at the four bigger boys until they all scramble away. He absentmindedly wonders why he feels much stronger, but shoves the thought away in favour of running over to Tom, who still sits in the dirt, arms wrapped around his legs and his face buried into them.

He falls to his knees next to him and pulls him against his chest, muttering soothing nonsense into the black, curly hair. Tom relaxes gradually, his small hands gripping Harry’s shirt tightly and he can feel tears soaking through the material when Tom presses his face against his shoulder.

“They said I’m a freak. They said nobody likes me,” Tom whispers, and Harry’s heart breaks a little at the defeated tone before he realises that Tom actually _spoke._

“You’re talking!” he exclaims, pushing him away a bit to look at his face. It’s flushed, tear tracks painting little streams in between smudges of dirt, and his eyes puffy from crying.

Tom scowls at him. “Of course I do,” he says, as if not the whole orphanage believes him to be mute because he never made a sound since he was 2. “I just waited until I didn’t sound like a _baby_.”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes, pulling Tom back against him. It’s so typically Tom, he doesn’t even know what to say to that. “You’re not a freak though. They’re just stupid idiots,” he comments instead, the anger crashing back into him like a wave. “And I like you, so they’re also liars.”

Tom hums softly. “But you also like other kids. You play with some,” he says, his grip on Harry’s shirt tightening.

“I like you more than all of them together,” Harry shrugs. “Besides, you could play with us, you know?”

Tom ignores the last part of his statement, but that isn’t much of a surprise. Whenever Harry tries to convince him to play with the other kids, Tom only scowls and sulks for hours after Harry leaves him. “More than all of them?” he asks instead.

“Of course, you were my first friend Tom.”

“Even more than Billy with his stupid rabbit?” Tom pushes, lifting his head to look at him with furrowed brows.

Harry smiles softly, pushing some of Tom’s locks out of his eyes. “Yes, even if Billy had 10 rabbits, I’d still like you more.”

“Good,” Tom nods sharply like he wouldn’t have accepted any other answer. And he probably wouldn’t have, sharing was not his strongest suit.

It’s already getting dark when they finally make their way back inside, and they’re both freezing from the autumn air. Ms. Cole is waiting for them, and Harry knows he’s in trouble before she says a word, because naturally the other boys tattled on him, twisting the story in their favour. He doesn’t try to tell his side of it, knowing it would only worsen the consequences.

He has to clean the toilets for a whole week, but it’s better than getting locked into the cupboard and he doesn’t care, as long as Tom is fine. They stick together even more, Harry reluctant to let him out of his sight after what happened.

Unfortunately, it’s not always working. Harry started school a few weeks ago, or rather, lessons the church provides for the orphans, organised by a few volunteers, and he has to leave Tom behind during the mornings. While Tom is smart enough to spend the time in close vicinity to the adults who don’t mind his silent presence, Harry doesn’t have an escape.

He can’t say why, but when he tries to defend only himself, it never works as well as when he’s defending Tom. Maybe it’s because seeing Tom hurt makes him much angrier, but it’s as if he needs that anger to have the necessary strength to fight back.

So, when he’s alone he keeps to running and hiding, and it’s one of those times when the strangest thing happens. Ever since he hurt the older boys, they have gotten more vicious in their pursuit of him, especially because they rarely catch Tom alone. Thus, they invented the game of ‘Harry-hunting’ for the breaks between lessons.

He is running over the vast square in front of the church, weaving his way through the other children and hoping that they won’t catch him this time. Not only does he still sport bruises from last week, but Tom always gets terribly upset when Harry is hurt, and then even more because he can’t protect Harry like Harry protects Tom.

He just wants to be far, far away, or maybe at least somewhere where they can’t catch him, really, that would do for now.

He has barely finished that thought when his gut churns and his breath leaves him, the weirdest sensation washing over his body. When he opens his eyes again, he barely suppresses a scream. He’s standing on the small platform of the bell tower, only a thin metal railing between him and the who knew how many hundred feet-fall to the ground. The cold wind whips his hair around harshly and makes his eyes water, but he barely feels it, an incredulous laugh escaping him that gets carried away instantly. He has no idea how this happened, but everything looks so small from up here and at least nobody will catch him now.

His elation doesn’t last as long as it takes the furious pastor to finally find him. He takes it upon himself to bring Harry back to the orphanage where he and Ms. Cole try for an hour to get out of him how he got up there, but he stays silent, knowing that they wouldn’t believe him anyway. Or that the consequences would be even worse if they did. They learned all about the sin of believing in superstition in church, and while he never really understood the word, he feels that what happened today might be something closely related to it.

This time, he doesn’t escape the cupboard, and he only sees a glimpse of Tom when Ms. Cole drags him through the corridor. When the door shuts behind him, leaving him in the dark and small, dusty space he sighs, sinking down and leaning his head onto his knees. He doesn’t understand how it happened, how he even did it, but he remembers that it felt a bit like his extra-strength when defending Tom.

* * *

Another year passes, and there are a few more incidents that confuse Harry a lot. Like last winter, when it was so cold that Tom was shaking next to him while they did their chores of shovelling snow – and really, why did _they_ have to do it instead of the taller and stronger boys? (Forget that, the answer is that even Ms. Cole hates them.) – his lips blue and teeth chattering, and he wished so desperately for warmth, and suddenly they both felt like they were sitting in front of a fire. Tom had stared at him in amazement and asked how he did it, but he still didn’t know.

Or when Tom had been locked in the cupboard for the first time, because Ms. Cole finally found out that he could actually speak and punished him for ‘all the times he had been disrespectful, because he could have answered,’ and Harry sat on the other side of the door, desperately trying to calm him down and suddenly the lock clicked open.

Eventually, Harry concludes that he has some kind of strange power that helps him when he needs it the most, but he hides it. He heard in church what they do to people with inexplicable abilities, and the other children already find Tom and him strange enough, so much so that even the younger kids barely play with Harry anymore.

He doesn’t even tell Tom, but more because he always gets mad when he can’t do everything that Harry can, like going to school, and he thinks this would be a lot worse.

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he sits in his bed and tries to do things. He once managed to make his pillow float and ever since has been glad that he’s one of the only children with a room to himself.

It’s small and dark, with only a tiny window high up on the wall and brown, tiled walls. It’s not even meant to be a dorm, but nobody wants to stay with him except Tom, and Ms. Cole doesn’t budge on the rule that all the children under 6 have to share their rooms with 4 others, no matter how bad of a tantrum Tom throws.

He is currently practicing, trying to light the single candle he has in his room when there’s a sharp knock on his door before it flies open. He doesn’t know why they even bother to knock when they enter directly afterwards anyway, but Ms. Cole coming into his room after the lights are out is so out of character that he disregards the thought.

He blinks against the harsh light from the corridor and awaits the scolding for not sleeping already, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she spits: “Here, you two share that room now. I don’t know what he did, but suddenly all his roommates are scared of him and refuse to sleep in the same room, just like it was with you. You deal with him.”

It’s only now that he’s able to make out Tom’s thin form next to her, with his blanket clutched closely to his chest and a satisfied look on his face. The next moment, she pushes him harshly inside and slams the door shut, and Harry catches him before he can fall. 

“Hey there kid, you okay?” he asks, unconsciously using the old nickname Tom pretends to hate by now. He claims that ‘5 is too old’, much to Harry’s amusement.

He thinks he can see Tom shrug before he throws his arms around Harry’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder.

They stay like this for a while, until Tom pulls back and crawls into bed next to him. He scowls, not because he minds sharing his space with Tom but because Ms. Cole didn’t even _think_ about asking, much less offering them a second bed.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he whispers, his fingers linking with Tom’s.

He can feel him hesitating and furrows his brows, but before he can start to worry Tom whispers back: “I don’t know what happened… how…” he sounds unsure of himself, and Harry’s heart starts beating faster as he suddenly begins to hope that maybe he’s not alone with his weird power. He stays silent though, wanting to hear the story first and knowing that pushing wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Tom’s grip on his hand tightens before he continues. “Richard was calling me names and stealing my things. He said I always look so clean and how it would be funny if I went without clothes tomorrow. I got really angry,” he stops, and Harry feels how he takes a deep breath. “I wanted to hurt him so that he stops. I mean you told me it’s only okay to hurt others to defend myself, but I thought, well, that it was okay then?”

He’s sure Tom didn’t mean to, but the end of his tale sounds more like a question and Harry smiles into the dark. “It’s alright Tom, destroying your things is mean and you need your clothes. Just tell me what you did?”

“I don’t know!” he huffs, frustration colouring his voice and Harry just knows that there’s a crease between his brows and he’s biting his lips. “I just wished he would stop, that they would all leave me alone. The others all laughed. And suddenly everything just… floated and whirled around, and Richard was screaming and holding his head, and then they all screamed and I think John ran and got Ms. Cole and I don’t know what–“

“Shh Tom, calm down,” Harry interrupts softly, pulling him closer. He’s glad for the darkness now, the large grin on his face would probably not help with stopping Tom from freaking out. While he does talk a lot to Harry, he normally isn’t one for ramblings, and it’s a sure sign for him being on edge when he actually does.

“Do you… do you think I’m the devil’s child?” Tom asks after several minutes, his voice impossibly small and scared.

Harry has to fight hard to keep the anger out of his voice. “Why would you think that? Where did you even hear that?!”

“They all said it when Ms. Cole came. They told us in church, didn’t you listen?” The last part sounds a lot like chiding and Harry rolls his eyes fondly. It was true though, he stopped listening to most of the stuff they were told in service ever since discovering his strange abilities. He already had a hard time believing in god beforehand, because honestly, what kind of god made children stay in a place like this one?

“You’re not the devil’s child, Tom. You know they say all kinds of stupid things,” he admonishes softly, running his hands through the curly hair.

“But what I did _was_ weird! Nobody else can make things float or hurt others this way!” Tom exclaims loudly, panic creeping back into his voice.

Harry sighs and sits up. He wanted to wait until the next day to talk about this, but they most likely won’t sleep as long as Tom is so troubled. “Okay I have to tell you something, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone and not be mad at me, alright?”

He sees Tom sitting up as well, only his silhouette visible, and takes a deep breath. “Remember all the times I made the older boys hurt when they tried to beat you?” A nod. “And how I couldn’t when you weren’t with me?” Another nod. “Okay. And remember when I ended up on the tower of the church, and how I unlocked the door to the cupboard? How I made us warm in winter, and how we sometimes had more food than the others?”

This time, the nod is more hesitant, and he waits patiently for Tom to connect it all by himself. He might be younger than Harry, but he’s smart for his age. “You can do it as well,” Tom finally breathes, and this time he sounds more awed than scared.

“Yeah, I think it’s the same thing. And I don’t think it’s bad, it helped us, didn’t it? More than the church or Pastor Benedict or _god _ever did!” he says, unable to keep his own excitement out of his voice.

“So, we’re special?”

Harry tilts his head at the question and thinks about it for a moment. “I don’t know. Just different, maybe? If we both can do it, then maybe others can, too?” he finally settles on. “Probably not here, but we can’t be the only ones in the whole world, right?”

At first, Tom’s excitement dims slightly at that, but when Harry starts to spin tales of finding others just like them when they grow up, he can feel Tom relaxing. They fall asleep making up stories of a fantasy world, one where things float in the air, where there’s always food and warmth and where they’re _not weird._

After that night, a few things change. The story of Tom’s outburst is all over the orphanage the next morning, and the other children avoid him like the plague. It doesn’t keep them from talking, and whispers of ‘freak’ and ‘devil’s child’ follow them around like a shadow, but Tom holds his head up high and practices his sneer whenever he feels too annoyed.

Harry watches in amusement. It’s nothing new that the other orphans find Tom strange, and even if the barely hidden fear is new,- and Tom might enjoy that a little bit too much - he can only smile fondly at the haughty expression on the face of the smaller boy.

What does surprise him is the change of behaviour in Ms. Cole. While she definitely isn’t scared of Tom, she seems to have given up on both of them. She doesn’t mention the new living arrangement again, which also means that they don’t get a second bed but neither of them minds it much. Harry suspects that Tom would end up in his bed most nights anyway.

When before she never passed up an opportunity to belittle them or give them more chores, she now ignores them as much as she can. That’s not to say that they don’t get punished if they break the rules, something they learn the hard way one Saturday, when they stay out way too long after discovering that Tom can talk to snakes. But overall, she apparently prefers to leave them alone. She even gives in when Tom demands once again to be allowed to go to school, much to their joy. (And shock, because Tom was indeed _demanding_ and not _asking_.)

Harry suspects she’s hoping that they will just avoid her in return, and in his book that’s a fantastic arrangement. He’s just glad that there are rarely ever any adoptions because she would probably push at least one of them onto the next best couple and he doubts that it would go over well for anyone involved.

With Tom joining him at the lessons, there is rarely any time they don’t spend together. Whenever they’re able to sneak away into the group of trees behind the playground, they try to practice their strange skills. It turns out to be a lot harder when there isn’t any pressure, but they slowly get there.

* * *

Two years after Tom’s first ‘incident’ they can both make things float or call them to them, they can make lights and make it warmer when they are freezing. Harry thinks that Tom is probably better at it than him, seeing that he’s a lot younger but has no trouble to match Harry, but he’s also better at school so it doesn’t come as much of a surprise.

They also discover, more by accident though, that Tom is better at making others hurt, while Harry is better at getting away or defending them. The scare of Tom’s previous roommates wore off eventually, and the other orphans didn’t take too kindly to the special treatment they both receive.

Inevitably, there is the occasional attempt of getting to them every few months, and it is over one of those that they are having their first fight. They had been on their way back from church and were caught by surprise when a group of older boys jumped out of the bushes beside the sidewalk. Before they knew what was happening, they were pushed to the ground and one of the boys had Harry in a painful headlock, pulling his hair and spitting insults.

He had seen Tom next to him, being held down and kicked repeatedly and he could already feel the energy pulsing under his skin when Tom started hissing in the raspy, familiar sounds he made when talking to snakes. First, the boys had laughed, but soon one of them screamed in pain, then they were all thrown back forcefully and quickly scrambled away.

When Harry had gotten his bearings back, he saw no less than 5 snakes lingering around Tom and he knew what happened.

Tom was swaying on his feet and Harry swallowed his anger down until they were back in their room, but now he was pacing and clenching his hands in his hair.

“I tell you, it’s too dangerous! They already know that we sometimes do strange things, but commanding snakes in front of them? Pushing them back would have been more than enough!” he says for the third time, getting more and more frustrated at the stubborn look on Tom’s face.

“And _I_ tell you that I don’t care! They should know to leave us alone” Tom snaps right back, and it’s not the first time he says that either.

Harry groans and lets himself drop onto the bed. “Do you have any idea what the matron will do to us if she finds out? God, what they’ll do to us in the blasted church?! And I don’t even know if those snakes are poisonous, what if they would have killed one of them?!”

He can hear Tom scoff from where he sits on the chair behind him and shoots up again, his anger reigniting. “I’m serious Tom! It’s stupid and reckless, and yes they’re mean bullies, but you can’t go around and not care if you kill someone, I can’t believe I even have to say this!”

Tom averts his eyes, and Harry would storm out of the room if ‘outside’ wouldn’t be even less bearable than this. He feels like a caged animal and nearly misses Tom’s quiet words.

“But they could have killed _you_. He nearly choked you.”

He looks more closely at Tom and can see his hands shaking slightly, the way his jaw is clenched and how he still refuses to meet Harry’s eyes. He sighs and rubs his face, dislodging his glasses in the process.

“Come here?” he asks, and Tom hesitates only a second before sitting next to him. Harry pulls him down with him, arms wrapping tightly around the thin frame, and buries his nose into his hair. Tom clings to him in return, and Harry thinks he needs to remember more often how young he still is.

“You don’t hate me?” Tom mumbles into his shoulder, his voice breaking at the end.

“Oh kid, I could never hate you,” he says, shocked that Tom would even think that. “I’m worried, that’s why I’m angry. I don’t want anything to happen to you, I’m scared they take one of us away or separate us,”

Tom raises his head and looks at him, tears swimming in his eyes. “So, you’re still mine?”

“Of course I am, you don’t get rid of me so easily,” he grins, unable to bear the fear in Tom’s eyes any longer. Tom doesn’t smile though, only nods sharply and lays his head back down on his chest.

“Good, because I won’t let anyone take you away from me,” he says with so much conviction that Harry can only believe him.

Maybe this possessiveness should worry him, but just like every other time Tom is like this, it just… doesn’t. Harry knows that the animosity of the other orphans towards him is mostly due to his friendship with Tom, that Ms. Cole’s and Pastor Benedict’s suspicion of him is because he always sticks up and cares for him for longer than he can remember, but he doesn’t care. He feels that as long as they have each other, they will be just fine.

They get lucky, and the boys who ambushed them don’t tell anyone what happened. Harry assumes that there is simply no way to twist the story that wouldn’t be at least embarrassing for them, but if they keep their silence, he doesn’t care for the reason.

Attacks on Tom and him become rare though, and they continue to spend their time outside of school mostly alone. If the weather allows it, they retreat to their spot under the trees, lying in the sun, reading and in Tom’s case, talking to the snakes.

When they finally learn to unlock _and_ lock doors, they pick up the habit of nicking food at night, mostly out of necessity. Rations are getting smaller and smaller due to continuous cuts in the funding if the scraps of conversation they sometimes overhear are anything to go by, and an apple before going to sleep sometimes makes all the difference.

* * *

It’s a few weeks before Harry’s 12th birthday when their nice, comfortable routine is permanently destroyed.

They’re lying on their bed, Tom’s head resting on his stomach while Harry reads to him, when there is a knock on the door. The first clue that something is off is that whoever is knocking doesn’t barge in directly after.

It still is Ms. Cole though, accompanied by a tall man with a long beard and a very weird suit, who eyes their position curiously.

They both sit up but stay silent – outside visitors rarely mean a good thing in this place.

“Mr. Dumeb-, ah, Dumbledes–,“ Ms. Cole breaks off again, throwing a questioning look at the man next to her.

“Dumbledore, Miss,” he says with an amused smile.

“Yes, that. He’s here to talk to Harry. Come on, Tom,” she says with a pinched look on her face and Tom narrows his eyes at her in suspicion. The two of them don’t need to speak to know what the other is thinking. If the man is here to take Harry away, no matter if to adopt or, god help them, to an asylum, they’re going to raise hell.

“Tom can stay,” Harry says decisively, which causes the smile on the man’s face to grow.

He still shakes his head though and says, before Ms. Cole can snap at them, “I’m afraid that is not possible. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Harry sighs inaudibly but squeezes Tom’s wrist between them, nodding slightly. Tom doesn’t look happy about it, but he leaves the room after levelling a glare at the man.

Harry stays silent when the door closes and the man sits down on the single chair. It’s not that he’s shy, he just prefers getting a better impression first before he gives anything away. If life in the orphanage didn’t teach him to be careful, Tom certainly did.

“Are you brothers?” the man breaks the silence and the suspicion that this is some kind of mental intervention intensifies.

“No, just close,” Harry answers shortly.

“Hm yes, Ms. Cole mentioned that.” Harry narrows his eyes, having a good idea just what kinds of things the matron said about them

“Excuse me, Sir but what was your name again? And what do you want?” Harry asks with forced politeness. It’s a little bold, but he doesn’t enjoy playing games and not knowing what is going on sets him on edge.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore and I’m a Professor,” he answers, and Harry feels his eyes widen in surprise. He doesn’t think he has ever met a Professor and doesn’t really know what to make of it either.

“You can do things, Harry, can’t you? Things other children can’t,” he asks, and Harry’s nerves increase even more. Have they been found out? Or just him? Maybe some of the other orphans have seen him practice and told Ms. Cole about it, and now they want to ‘cure’ him, or do tests on him-

“Don’t panic,” Professor Dumbledore says, which doesn’t really manage to calm Harry down until it’s followed by: “I’m like you, you know?”

A spark of hope mixes into his spiralling thoughts, memories of fantastic stories he and Tom used to spin of finding others that were like them. He still stays silent though, wondering where this is going.

When the Professor realises that he’s still not going to answer he continues. “There’s a school, for children like you. Hogwarts is a school of magic, where we teach you to control the powers you have. Tell me, have there ever been strange things happening around you nobody could explain?”

Well, he could control some of his powers already, but he also remembers the force of some of his and Tom’s outbursts when they were angry, so he nods slowly. “I once ran away from some children and ended up on the tower of the church,” he settles on, thinking that it is a rather harmless thing to reveal.

Dumbledore smiles brightly at him. “That’s impressive! Well, here’s your letter with everything you will need, and if you like I will accompany you to get your supplies. The term starts on the 1st of September, it’s a boarding school, you see.”

Harry takes the envelope but doesn’t open it. “I won’t go without Tom,” he says, the idea of being separated for so long making his heart clench.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible Harry, the school is only for magical children,” Professor Dumbledore says, and there is pity in his tone. “I would even go so far and advise you against telling him you’re a wizard. It’s not allowed to tell Muggles about the existence of magic.”

So that’s what it’s called he thinks but ignores it for now in favour of protesting. “But Tom can do magic, too!”

The Professor looks surprised, but his smile brightens. “Well, then he will get his letter when he turns 11. You see, you’re a bit of a special case because your birthday is just a few weeks too late, otherwise, you would have started last year.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, turning the envelope in his hands thoughtfully. He doesn’t want to leave Tom behind, but this is what they have dreamed about for years. Then he remembers something else the Professor said, and his heart sinks. “I don’t have any money to pay for the school or even the supplies. Tom neither.”

It’s the first time Professor Dumbledore doesn’t look cheerful, and Harry’s sure this was it, that the flicker of hope he felt had been for naught. Before he can start to make up a story for Tom to save him from the disappointment, the Professor sighs.

“Your parents left you a lot of money, and there is a fund for those that don’t have that, so you both will be fine.”

His eyes widen and he can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He doesn’t know _anything_ about his parents, just that he has been left on the steps of the orphanage when he was one.

“Do you… Sir, do you know what happened to them? Could they do magic, too?” he finally presses out, his fingers clenching around the envelope.

The Professor smiles sadly at him. “Yes, your father was a wizard and your mother a witch. Unfortunately, they got very sick shortly after you were born.”

Harry suddenly has a thousand questions, but before he can voice any of them, Dumbledore stands up and says: “Now, should we go to Diagon Alley? It’s here in London, I thought we could take the bus!”

He squelches his disappointment and shakes his head. “Thank you, Sir, but I’d prefer to go alone. If you could tell me how I can get there and how to access the money they left me?”

While he feels a bit apprehensive about doing it all by himself, he just knows that Tom would never forgive him if he doesn’t take him along. It’s going to be bad enough as it is.

The Professor looks hesitant but finally nods, describing how to get to Kings Cross and to ask in a pub called the ‘Leaky Cauldron’ for help to get into Diagon Alley, and tells him a bit more about Hogwarts.

As soon as he leaves, Harry falls back and presses the envelope against his chest. He feels a weird mixture of excitement, dread, and sadness.

It’s how Tom finds him a bit later, and he sits down next to Harry silently.

“There’s a school, Hogwarts,” he says after a while, his eyes fixed on the ceiling instead of Tom. “It’s for people like us, for learning magic.” Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tom’s face light up and he sighs. “It’s a boarding school in Scotland. It starts at 11 and takes 7 years. Professor Dumbledore said you’ll get a letter in 2 years as well.”

Tom stiffens next to him and his voice is tense when he asks: “Are you going, then?”

“I asked if you can come with me,” Harry says instead, sitting up and trying to take Tom’s hand, but he pulls away and jumps up.

“But you can’t, and you’re going anyway.” His hands are clenched into fists and trembling, and his eyes hold such a betrayed look that Harry winces.

He stands up as well, trying again to get a hold of Tom but he steps out of reach, even when his voice breaks as he says: “You said you would stay with me. _You_ _said you would never leave me!_”

“Tom-“ he doesn’t get to finish, not that he knew what he could say in the first place. Tom whirls around and storms out of their room, the door slamming shut behind him. Harry’s first impulse is to follow him, but he knows that it wouldn’t do him any good when Tom is like this.

He slumps back onto the bed instead and finally opens the letter. A little bit of his excitement returns upon reading the list of supplies, but there’s a knot in his chest that won’t leave him. It’s not only because of Tom’s anger but the overall idea of being separated from him for so long. He isn’t exactly worried about Tom, he knows that he can look after himself by now, but ignoring the fact that they’ve never been apart for more than a few hours and he doesn’t know how he will handle it himself, he’s also scared what Tom might get up to when left to his own devices.

There isn’t anything he can do about it though, and he just hopes that he might be able to placate him with the trip to Diagon Alley and a promise of writing every other day.

Tom doesn’t return until dinner, and he doesn’t speak to Harry at all. Harry lets him sulk in peace for a few days, but eventually, he can’t take it anymore.

They’re lying in bed one morning, and Tom is already in the process of getting up when Harry grabs his wrist. “Please talk to me?” he begs, looking up at Tom pleadingly in the dim morning light. Tom hesitates, and he rushes on, “Look, imagine it was the other way around, if you were older than me. You would go as well, wouldn’t you? I mean I even said I won’t go without you, but it’s just not possible, and if I refused, then you would go in two years and leave _me_ behind.” He knows he’s rambling, but he doesn’t care. There are only 4 weeks left until he has to leave, and he hates this distance between them.

Tom’s features soften and after a few more seconds he slowly nods. Harry tugs at his arm until Tom falls on top of him, and he feels like he can breathe properly for the first time in days.

“I don’t want to go without you either, you know that, right?” he adds, and feels Tom nod against his chest, his fingers digging harshly into Harry’s sides.

“I’m scared you’ll find someone else there,” Tom admits so silently that Harry has to strain his ears to understand him.

He smiles softly. “I’m yours, kid, remember? And you’re mine.”

“I won’t let them take you away from me,” Tom echoes the words they had whispered to each other so often, and Harry thinks they will be okay.

They don’t exactly return to normal, but it’s better than directly after Dumbledore’s visit. They go to Diagon Alley together and Harry discovers that his parents did leave him a _lot_ of money. They spend the whole day in the magical street, gathering Harry’s school supplies, eating ice cream for the first time in their lives, and he buys Tom every book he wants.

The most exciting part is getting his wand though; it’s Holly and Phoenix feather and it makes the magic sing under his fingertips. The wandmaker looks intrigued when Tom tries it and gets a reaction out of it, but they’re too joyous to pay it much mind.

Harry also buys a beautiful owl so he can write to Tom, and he changes a large amount of Galleons into pounds for him to buy food while Harry is gone.

Tom is more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing for hours or just watching Harry silently, other times holding on to him desperately in the security of their room, making him promise over and over again that he will come back every holiday, that he won’t forget him, _won’t leave him._

Harry for his part alternates between excitement and dread, and between their mood swings, Tom making Harry read all of his schoolbooks, and them both testing out his wand, the remaining weeks pass far too quickly.

They don’t sleep the night before Harry leaves, clinging to each other and taking turns in crying and making promises, and they both look horrible the next morning. Tom isn’t allowed to accompany Harry to Kings Cross, and leaving him behind at the door of the orphanage is easily the hardest thing Harry ever had to do.


	2. Hogwarts

Hogwarts is amazing and beautiful and overwhelming. No matter how much time he and Tom spent reading his books, nothing could have prepared him for all the magic he finds in every little thing, for the endless amounts of food and warmth or the pompous luxury of it all.

He is sorted into Slytherin by a battered, old hat that tells him that he’s cunning, loyal only to one person (as if he didn’t know that already) and focused on self-preservation, with the ambition to make a better life for himself and Tom. Harry thinks it’s fitting, but all in all, he doesn’t care much if he’s honest.

He does wonder sometimes if he might have an easier time in one of the other houses because all his roommates are from rich families and eye him warily, as apparently, the Potter’s were known to be in Gryffindor. But then again, he already has a close friend who isn’t very good with sharing anyway. 

It’s better than at the orphanage and that’s all that matters. He makes a few friendly contacts with some students and otherwise keeps his head down, studies and explores the castle.

But no matter how much he enjoys Hogwarts, Tom is always missing, as if he has left a piece of himself behind in London. His bed is too big, too soft, _too empty, _the letters they exchange don’t come close to hearing Tom talk or seeing his eyes light up at learning something new, and the food tastes like ash in his mouth every time he remembers what Tom still has to eat at Wool’s.

The train ride at the start of the Christmas holidays seems to last forever, and he’s out of breath and sweating when he finally arrives at the orphanage. Who would have thought that there would ever come a day where he couldn’t wait to get back here?

Tom sits on the steps to the entrance, shivering in the cold air like he has been there for hours and he jumps up as soon as he sees Harry. His eyes light up for a second, but then he scowls and stomps towards Harry, who lets his trunk drop and pulls him against his chest. Tom is hitting him wherever he can reach but it doesn’t matter, he just holds him closer and buries his nose in the black locks, breathing in everything that is Tom and safe and _home_.

Tom doesn’t talk to him for two days, but he doesn’t leave his side either and Harry doesn’t care one bit as long as he’s there. He tells him all about Hogwarts and lessons and Quidditch, and all the things he can’t wait to show Tom, and while Tom is still scowling, he can see that he’s excited about the prospect of seeing it all.

When he has to leave at the end of the holidays it’s even harder than the first time, maybe because they know now that it won’t be alright, that he won’t be back before they know it, and despite loving Hogwarts, he can’t really look forward to it as long as he has to leave Tom behind.

He counts the days until the Easter holidays, and when he returns Tom is sitting on the steps once more, scowling and hitting him and not talking to him for days.

It’s the same when he finally comes back for the summer holidays, but this time they don’t get days for silent reconciliation huddled up in their room, because the whole orphanage makes a trip to the seaside the very next day.

At some point, Tom slips away from him and while it hurts a little after all the time they spent apart, Harry doesn’t think much of it, long since used to Tom’s weird coping mechanisms, and instead wanders along the beach by himself.

He comes to regret that thoroughly when they return to the orphanage and Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop appear to be suddenly traumatized and mute, and Ms. Cole accuses Tom of being responsible. Harry can see in his eyes that it’s true, so he tells Ms. Cole that Tom has been with him the whole day and drags him off to their room. It won’t stop her from thinking Tom is the culprit, but as long as she doesn’t have any proof, it doesn’t matter.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Harry crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Tom. “I don’t even want to know what you did, just, why?!” he grounds out, his anger only increasing at the impassive look Tom wears.

For a second he thinks Tom might continue his silent treatment, but then his shoulders slump and his mask crumbles. He averts his eyes and chews on his bottom lip, and Harry fights to keep a hold of his anger at the lost picture Tom makes.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, and Harry rolls his eyes, gripping Tom’s shoulders.

“Don’t lie to me, you know that doesn’t work,” he admonishes without any real bite to it and Tom lets his head fall against Harry’s shoulder.

“Since you started Hogwarts, they sometimes follow me around,” he starts, and Harry has a sinking feeling that he knows where this is going. “They always say how you left me, how you finally got sick of me and only come back because you feel obligated. They say that I’ll never be good enough to go with you one day and…” Tom trails off, his fingers gripping at Harry’s shirt. He stays silent, waiting for Tom to continue.

“I ignored them, the whole year you were gone. I sometimes told them to get lost, but I never did anything to them! But before you came back yesterday, they said they were going to show you that I’m not worth it, and if you don’t listen, they’ll make you hurt, or tell Ms. Cole lies about you so that you couldn’t go back to Hogwarts, and me neither. I couldn’t let them! I just wanted to scare them a bit, I swear! But then I was so _angry,_ and I lost control…” he stops again, taking a deep breath before pulling back and looking Harry in the eyes. “I still think they deserved it. I know you don’t like it and always say I shouldn’t hurt others, but I don’t regret it. So, you can leave me if I’m too horrible for you, but I won’t lie.”

Harry sighs and wraps his arms around Tom, pulling him back against his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, really, but he tries anyway. “You should have told me. No matter what they say to Ms. Cole, she can’t keep us from Hogwarts, but if they caught you, you could have gotten into serious trouble. Promise me you won’t do something like this again?”

Tom hesitates and Harry tightens his grip on him, saying: “At least talk to me first?”

Tom finally nods. “Alright, I promise. So, you won’t leave me?”

“Of course not, kid.” He doesn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Tom that no matter what he did, Harry could never abandon him.

“Good, I wouldn’t have let you anyway,” Tom mumbles, and Harry smiles.

* * *

His second year at Hogwarts passes much like the first, living from holidays to holidays and never really settling in. He tries out for the Quidditch-team though, because out of everything magical, he probably loves flying the most. It’s the only time he really feels free and content, even without Tom there, and the position of the Seeker is perfect for him.

A nice side effect of being on the team and actually managing to win every match they play is that his housemates go from ignoring and tolerating his presence to respecting him at least a little.

When he returns for the summer and sees Tom sitting on the steps, he grins harder than ever before, because this is finally, _finally_ the last time that he returns here alone.

A few weeks into the summer, Tom is visited by Dumbledore and gets his orphan fund, which would be barely enough to buy everything second-hand. Harry ignores Tom’s protests and pays for everything he wouldn’t be able to afford.

They’re less astonished than Ollivander when Tom gets the brother-wand to Harry’s, both only smiling at the symbolism.

He also knows that Tom is curious about his parents, and after two years in Slytherin Harry knows that some students put a lot of weight on ancestry, however stupid he personally finds that. He’s sure that Tom will be sorted into Slytherin though and convinces him to take an inheritance test at Gringotts.

The results are a surprise, to say the least. Since Dumbledore’s first visit, Tom was convinced that out of his parents, his father must have been the wizard, no matter how many times Harry told him that magic doesn’t make you invincible.

It’s obvious that Tom needs some time to process the news, and Harry only reminds him once how cool it is to be a descendant from Slytherin, but otherwise lets him brood. Later, when they’re huddled together in their bed, Tom grabs Harry’s hand tightly and tells him that he decided that it doesn’t matter because Harry is his family anyway.

On the 1st of September, Harry is nearly as excited as Tom. It’s the first time that leaving for Hogwarts isn’t tinted with any regret, and he can’t wait to show Tom everything. Tom tries to hide his nervousness, but Harry can see it easily in the way he can’t keep his fingers from fiddling with his sleeves and keeps chewing on his bottom lip.

They arrive way too early at Kings Cross and when he tells Tom to run into the barrier, he looks at him as if he lost his mind, but Harry only laughs and drags him along. Tom stops and stares when they come out on the other side and Harry lets him, only squeezing his hand softly. He said it a hundred times already, but at the awed expression on Tom’s face he can’t stop himself from repeating it. “I’m so glad that you’re finally with me.”

Tom smiles at him, the open, soft one only Harry ever gets to see, and which always has him smiling back no matter if he wants to or not. His heart beats a bit faster, but before he can linger on it, Tom tugs at his hand and they board the train, quickly finding a compartment.

The train ride passes uneventfully. Tom lies with his head in Harry’s lap, sometimes reading passages from his book out loud that he finds particularly interesting, and Harry alternates between dozing and smiling down at Tom like an idiot.

When they finally arrive, he sends Tom on his way with a bright grin and an: “Enjoy the ride,” that has Tom scowling at him, but his lips are twitching, and Harry just knows that he will love his first view of the castle.

He couldn’t say who’s more nervous about Tom’s sorting between the two of them. He can’t sit still at the Slytherin table, his eyes glued to the door he had been led through 2 years ago and ignoring the questions of his housemates. He doesn’t think that Tom will be sorted anywhere but Slytherin, seeing that _Harry_ landed here and Tom fits the criteria ten times better than him, but his anxiety doesn’t seem to get that.

When the first years are finally entering the hall his gaze instantly finds Tom, and he smiles softly at the wonder that is clear on his face for a few seconds, remembering his own amazement vividly. While he did tell Tom about nearly everything, he left out a few things he thought would be better to experience for himself.

In the end, the hat barely touches Tom’s head before it calls “Slytherin!” and Harry is the first who claps. Before Tom arrives at the table, he catches Lestrange muttering something about ‘Riddle’ and ‘Mudblood’ and levels his best glare at him, but he knows this won’t be the end of it. He expected it, really, they didn’t welcome him with open arms either and _his_ surname is a wizarding one at least.

There is a reason why he had spent a lot of his free time in the last two schoolyears with practicing defensive magic and a myriad of hexes and jinxes he intends to teach Tom as soon as possible. They didn’t take shit from anyone at the orphanage and they wouldn’t here, either.

For now, he ignores it though and simply pulls Tom into the seat next to him, who for his part simply looks very smug and self-satisfied, as if he didn’t spend the last night stressing over the chance of being sorted into another house.

After the feast, Harry waits in the common room until Tom is through with the introduction from the prefects. When he sees Tom standing a bit separated from the other first years he fondly rolls his eyes – not that he expected anything else, but it’s such a Tom thing to do, to not to bother with anyone.

As soon as the prefects let them go, Tom makes his way over to Harry. “They’re idiots,” he sneers, and Harry doesn’t even try to suppress his smile. “I’m going to stay with you.”

Really, Harry shouldn’t be surprised and it’s not like he minds. “Do you now,” he asks anyway, just because he knows that Tom wouldn’t take no for an answer and therefore doesn’t ask in the first place, doesn’t mean that Harry has to simply go with it.

Tom huffs and glares, before pulling him in the direction of the dorms. “You don’t even know where to go,” he laughs in exasperation.

“Well, then hurry up and show me!”

They earn a few looks for their antics, but it’s not like they aren’t used to ignoring those and his roommates like him enough to not comment.

All in all, Tom takes to Hogwarts like a fish to water. He not only excels in all his classes but actually makes an effort to make a good impression on the teachers, unwilling to repeat the issues from the orphanage. He doesn’t outright antagonise any students, but he doesn’t deign them with any attention either.

When they’re not in classes, Harry and Tom are always together. When Harry has Quidditch training, Tom sits in the stands with a book – unlike Harry, he decidedly doesn’t enjoy flying and after the first Quidditch match of the year, decides the sport is a waste of time. Harry only laughs, because Tom never enjoyed physical activities and he loves him all the more for coming to Harry’s games anyway.

Granted, in return, he pulls Harry along to the library more often than he can count, but Harry would have worried if he didn’t.

In the first few weeks, there were barely any attempts from the other Slytherins to rile Tom up, and Harry puts it down to the respect he earned during the last two years. Tom continues to stay in the 3rd-year dorm though, and apparently, it’s this what eventually breaks the camel’s back.

Harry is on his way back from Quidditch practice, already wondering what Tom is up to when he hears voices from behind the stands. He dismisses it at first, it’s not rare for some of the older students to meet up here, but he hesitates when he makes out the tone and the words that are spoken.

“… just a little Mudblood that thinks himself too important, aren’t you? Walking around the school as if you own it, just because you have a 3rd year defending you. Do you repay him when you crawl into his bed at night?”

It’s the next voice that gets him to change directions and quicken his steps because he would recognise Tom’s arrogant drawl anywhere. “You don’t know anything, you pitiful idiot, generations of inbreeding must have addled your mental capacities.”

Harry turns the corner and a growl escapes him at the scene in front of him. Lestrange, the second year who already couldn’t keep his mouth shut at the welcoming feast, has Tom pinned against the back of the stands, his wand at Tom’s throat and three of his friends behind him.

Harry doesn’t even think about it, just pulls his wand and sends a ‘Furunculus’ at Lestrange, quickly followed by a few Knockback-Jinxes at his lackeys. He’s seething and smirks in satisfaction when the four boys look at him with fear in their eyes. He never once lost his temper since he arrived at Hogwarts, always avoiding confrontations, but it’s like it always was: if it’s only him, he goes with ‘hide and run’; if it’s Tom, he acts before he thinks.

“Never, and I mean _never_ try this again, or a Knockback Jinx is the last of your worries!” They all nod frantically and quickly scramble away in the direction of the school. He ponders if he should send a Tripping Jinx after them for good measure, but Tom’s hand on his wrist brings him back to the presence.

“You know, I would have been just fine,” Tom says with furrowed brows, but there’s a smile tugging on his lips.

“If you think that’s enough of a reason for me to not hex anyone who tries to harm you, you don’t know me as well as you should,” Harry grins but adds more seriously: “Come on, you would have done the same. Besides, you know if you told them about your ancestry, they would leave you alone, probably even adore you.”

Tom shrugs, a smirk passing over his features. “It’ll be more fun to see them flounder and scramble if they find out after they made me their enemy, and then watch how they’re trying to make it up to me.”

Harry only rolls his eyes in response, not doubting for a second that Tom will do exactly that.

There are only a few more attempts to hurt Tom, and none of them end well for those who try. If Harry isn’t around, Tom knows how to defend himself just fine, and soon nobody in Slytherin thinks that Tom is only untouchable when he’s around Harry.

At the end of Tom’s first year, everybody is used to them being attached at the hip, and unlike in the orphanage, most of their year mates are on friendly terms with them.

* * *

They spend a lot of their summer holidays at Diagon Alley, making good use of Harry’s allowance when the food rations at Wool’s get even smaller. After 9 months of Hogwarts feasts, it feels impossible to return to the meagre meals, and it’s not like Harry doesn’t have the money. He ignores any protest from Tom on that topic, and when he starts buying Tom something every time he complains, he finally gives up.

Harry’s 4th and Tom’s 2nd year passes mostly in a similar fashion. Tom sleeps in Harry’s dorm, achieves top marks in every subject and his notorious studying leads to Harry’s marks increasing as well – he’ll never be as good as Tom, but he resigned himself to that a long time ago and doesn’t mind. Their teachers love them, the other students treat them with friendly indifference, and Harry wins Slytherin the Quidditch matches.

There’s one notable change though, and that’s mostly due to Harry’s dormmates, who suddenly have a never-ending interest in girls. Harry realises only now that he has never given that particular topic any thought, and even now that he does, he’s unable to see what all the fuss is about. Sure, some look pretty, and he noticed that he sometimes wakes up from blurred dreams that have him wanking in the shower afterwards and hoping that Tom doesn’t notice, but to him, the two things just… don’t fit together.

Whenever the topic comes up in their dorm, Tom only sneers and rolls his eyes, and the other boys laugh and tell him that he will understand in two years; to Harry’s surprise, the idea that Tom could become this obsessed with a girl, or really, anyone, bothers him a lot more than his own disinterest in the matter. He doesn’t know what to make of it, and for the first time can’t actually talk to Tom about it. So he ignores it, smiles and nods when the others ask him for his opinion, and otherwise concentrates on Quidditch.

* * *

When they return for the summer holidays, it’s worse than ever before. Germany is blocking imports and there’s barely any food, and from the middle of July on there are regular drills in case the bombings reach London.

They try to escape to Diagon Alley as often as they can, but on the magical side Grindelwald is on the rise, and the atmosphere is just as fearful and tense. Harry begs the owner of the Leaky Cauldron to rent a room to them, but he says he can’t as long as he’s not 17.

When in August the nightly air raids on the suburbs of London start, there is nothing they can do, and Harry never felt so useless in his task to protect the two of them. Every other night blasting sirens pull them out of bed, and they cower with all the other orphans in the basement of the orphanage. They cling to each other, shaking and silent, fingers digging into arms and legs to remind them that they’re still here, that for now, they’re still alive. They don’t talk about it, but Harry is sure that they both find at least some consolation in the fact that if they die, at least they do together.

They always take their wands with them as well; there might be a prohibition of using magic outside of school, but if they have to choose between Hogwarts and being alive, it isn’t much of a question, and they don’t need to be architects to know that the basement of the orphanage isn’t the safest place.

When they finally come back to Hogwarts, they’re both beyond exhaustion, haggard and jumping at every loud sound. They have to put a silencing charm around their bed, because at least one of them will wake up screaming and shaking every night, and a few hours later it’s the other.

When they hear about the Blitz starting a week after they left, it’s only Tom slapping him across the face that keeps Harry from going into a full-blown panic attack, and later that night it’s Harry’s turn to reassure Tom over and over again that he won’t let him die while Tom clings to him frantically.

It takes them both until Christmas to regain some sense of normality, and they both deal with it differently. Where Tom gets increasingly hateful towards Muggles for their invention of bombs, Harry actually despises the wizards and witches who don’t even know what is going on right next to them even more; not to mention the way Grindelwald is orchestrating his own war all over Europe.

Much to his relief, Tom actually starts to see his point the longer they are at Hogwarts. He doesn’t change his opinion completely, and he wouldn’t be Tom if he did, but thankfully he doesn’t go down the path so many Purebloods do.

A nice improvement is that they now can both go to Hogsmeade. The previous two years Harry only went occasionally, bringing back mountains of dark chocolate for Tom – and books, always books, of course – but it’s a lot better to stroll through the quaint village with Tom by his side. Their housemates tease them good-naturedly over never taking any dates, but they both brush it off. Harry briefly wonders about the satisfaction he experiences over Tom’s continued disinterest in the whole matter, especially as there are a lot more girls swooning over him than Harry, but there are so many other things he has to worry about, like the next summer or his OWLs, that he doesn’t spare it much thought.

Unlike Tom, he only chose two electives, namely Ancient Runes and Care for Magical Creatures, but towards the end of the school year that is more than enough to stress him out. He blames Tom for his increased obsession over exams of all things, but he only says: “You will thank me later, you can’t spend your whole life playing Quidditch, you know,” and that was that.

Before the start of exams, Harry makes an appointment with Dippet. There are still constant reports on air raids every night coming from London, and he would do anything to not having to live through an even worse summer than the last.

He isn’t above begging, but Dippet dismisses him anyway and Harry is so angry he nearly cries. Here they have a perfectly warded, hidden _castle_ and still, they send children back to being hailed by bombs every night.

When he finally finds Tom, he drags him out of the common room without a word. They hide away in a deserted classroom, duelling until neither of them can move anymore. Tom may be younger, but he always had a better grip on his magic and so it’s a rather fair match. He doesn’t need to tell him what has him so worked up, and they both return to their dorm still in a thunderous mood.

Thankfully, only a few days before their return to London, Harry has another idea. He was brooding over the inconvenience of only turning 17 at the end of the holidays and remembered what the owner of the Leaky Cauldron said last year: either he has to be off age, or they need someone to vouch for them. At the time, he had only thought of Ms. Cole, but they both actually have a magical guardian in their Head of House. Slughorn loves Harry for being the last of his line, and he adores Tom for, well, being Tom probably.

They have to lean on him a bit, but their description of the last summer apparently is horrible enough for Slughorn and they don’t even have to beg. For once it helps that wizards are oblivious to the happenings of the Muggle world because Slughorn didn’t hear about the recent break in the raids. Neither Tom nor Harry trusts the peace at all, and it would only weaken their argument.

Tom is a bit miffed that Slughorn insists to check on them once a week and repeatedly reminds them to be careful about supporters of Grindelwald popping up everywhere, but Harry doesn’t care. Nothing can be worse than Tom’s terrified, shaking body pressing against his, not knowing if they’ll survive another night. Even the fact that they’ll never have to return to Wool’s seems inconsequential in comparison.

* * *

When they step into Muggle London they both freeze on the spot, Harry’s mouth goes dry and there is a faint ringing in his ears.

Debris towers in high mountains on street corners and in the craters that once were houses, an indecipherable mess of stone and pieces of furniture, of shattered glass, and Harry thinks he can even make out a few toys. There's a small bicycle for sure.

The air is thick with the stench of fire and cold smoke, mixed with mould and a sweet, disgusting smell he doesn't want to think about too much. Soldiers and policemen are everywhere, women and children are trying to clean up the pieces of what's left, digging in the piles of rubbish and looking so tired and starved that Harry thinks it's a miracle they're still standing.

For a second he wonders if maybe Hogwarts was all a figment of his imagination, if maybe his mind snapped in this hell and the safe haven they spent the last 9 months in doesn't exist at all.

He grabs Tom's hand, needing to feel that he's still _real_, still _here. _

He can feel him shaking next to him, and it’s this what finally manages to snap him out of his spiralling thoughts. “Come on, we don’t have to spend much time here. The Leaky is right around the corner.”

They don’t leave Diagon Alley once during the whole summer. For the first few weeks, their nightmares return, and Harry even ponders sending money to Wool’s; no matter how much he hated it and all its inhabitants, he can’t imagine how bad it must be now. But he would have to set foot into the other side of the Leaky, and he just _can’t_.

Diagon isn’t the happy, bright place they visited for the first time 5 years ago any longer either, but it’s still worlds better than Muggle London. When they’re not just holed up in their room, they’re wandering the Alley or spend hours in Flourish & Blotts.

Slughorn visits them once a week, and Harry only just keeps Tom from sending him on a visit to ‘the other side.’ Not that he doesn’t agree that it would do the wizarding world some good to see what’s going on right under their nose, but he doesn’t want to be responsible for causing his Head of House a heart attack.

It’s the beginning of August when Tom gets a new idea into his head. “I want to go to Knockturn Alley,” he declares one morning as if that’s a completely normal thing to say for a soon-to-be 4th-year student.

“We can’t,” he answers calmly, but deep down he knows that he has already lost this argument. If Tom wants to go into Knockturn, the only thing Harry can do is accompany him to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.

They play this game for a few days until he gives in, and to his relief, Tom is mostly after the book shop. Since the first time Harry had heard of the Dark Art’s, he knew that Tom would get curious sooner or later, so he buys himself a few books besides the pile for Tom, knowing he could only lose if he didn’t know about what they’re arguing.

He doesn’t have a problem with dark magic per se, but he suspects that there is a reason it’s infamous, and Tom tends to disregard caution when he is fascinated. Why his self-preservation leaves him at such unfortunate times, Harry doesn’t know, but he is long since resigned to it.

No matter how improved their summer in the Leaky Cauldron was compared to staying at Wool’s, they both can breathe easier when they return to Hogwarts. Harry drops Astronomy, History of Magic and Care, ignoring Tom’s lectures about their importance, and becomes Quidditch Captain.

Slughorn invites them to his Slug Club, and Harry knows that it’s only due to Tom that he has to go, but he doesn’t mind. That’s not to say that those parties aren’t horrible, but even he can see the advantage of it, and Tom would be insufferable if he had to go alone.

After the first few weeks, when they are back into their comfortable, _safe_ routines, Harry’s dreams start to change. Not the nightmares that still come up occasionally, but the ones that leave him sweaty and breathless and with a boner he has to take care of in the shower. Where they had been vague up until now, only faceless people and sensations, they are suddenly a lot more vivid and detailed, like moving photographs imprinted in his mind. The worst part though, in his opinion, is that they always and exclusively feature Tom.

At the same time, he begins to become a different kind of aware of Tom; of the way he bites his bottom-lip when he’s concentrating, of his long fingers tugging at strands of meticulously kept hair and just _how much_ they actually touch each other.

It still takes him nearly until Christmas until he finally connects the dots between his non-existent interest in girls, the feeling of anxiety and anger whenever someone brings up dating in front of Tom or the way girls are practically drooling over him, his dreams, and the reason for is inability to look away from Tom a bit too often.

He doesn’t even realise it completely on his own; they are brewing Amortentia in Potions, and all he can smell is Tom. When it finally clicks, his first reaction is a slightly manic laugh, and then he wants to cry and shout and maybe hit his head against a wall a few times, because really, he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised, but he _does_ know that Tom is still 2,5 years younger than him and he’s scared that something might change between them.

He tries to hide it as best as he can, but Tom knows him too well and is too observant to not notice that something changed. It results in him getting more possessive, something that eased a bit since Tom started Hogwarts but now returns full force. He rarely leaves Harry out of his eyes, and every night they lie in bed there are declarations of ‘mine,’ and ‘stay,’ and ‘I won’t let you leave me.’

It’s not like Harry minds though. He’s just glad that Tom doesn’t demand to know what’s up with him, and he takes whatever he can get. Besides, it allows him to keep a close eye on Tom’s dive into the Dark Art’s. By now it’s a regular occurrence that he has to drag him away from his books or practice when his cheeks start to get flushed and his eyes glazed, and Harry shudders at the thought of what would happen if he didn’t force him to take breaks that last longer than a few hours.

At the end of the year, Tom decides to finally reveal his ancestry to the rest of the house. He does it like everything else he does, smug and haughty, one night sitting in the common room and talking to Salazar Slytherin’s portrait in Parseltongue, acting like he doesn’t notice all the astonished and slightly scared looks he receives in the sudden silence.

His prediction from 4 years ago comes true, of course, and all the Purebloods that didn’t spare him a second glance before, now fall all over themselves to suck up to him. Harry watches it all in fond exasperation, secretly glad to know that at least, when he leaves Hogwarts, Tom will be fine.

* * *

At the start of the summer holidays, Harry rents a flat in Hogsmeade. It has only a small bedroom, a living room and a kitchen so tiny it’s hard to fit two people inside. The dark, wooden floorboards creak at every step and the walls are so thin that you can hear what’s going on in the Hogs Head next door, but it’s cosy, it has large windows that let in the sunlight in the mornings and most importantly, it’s _theirs_.

Harry knows that Tom would have preferred to find something in Diagon Alley, but Harry wants to be close to Hogwarts after he graduates next year and additionally, Hogsmeade is cheaper. Not that he has to be careful with his money, but he doesn’t think throwing it out of the window is necessary either.

Besides the flat, the best thing is that Harry is finally allowed to do magic outside of school, and they take a lot of advantage of that, apparating to Diagon and Knockturn Alley and even taking some of their housemates up on their offer to visit. They both know that they’re only invited because of Tom’s recent revelation, but Tom is only after the extensive family libraries and the contacts, so it’s not like they care.

It’s in the library of the Malfoys that Tom stumbles across his next obsession, and he spends most of his summer trawling through books and texts, looking for leads on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. They spent a lot of their free time at school exploring the castle, but Harry knows it’s not only curiosity that has Tom so set on finding a connection to his ancestry.

He can certainly understand the desire to have some form of relation, however impersonal it might be. He invested more time than he wants to admit researching the Potter’s and whatever scraps of knowledge he could find on his parents himself. Not that he was very successful, but he knows where Tom is coming from.

To no one’s surprise, Tom is made prefect when school starts again, and Harry feels oddly proud of him. Naturally, they take advantage of this and spend a lot of nights searching for the entrance of the chamber.

Tom becomes even more possessive and affectionate, even hexing a girl when he finds out that she sometimes slips notes to Harry in class. Of course, Tom doesn’t admit that, but Harry doubts that it’s a coincidence that she ends up in the hospital wing the day after Tom discovered the crumbled scraps of papers, forgotten between Harry’s books.

Harry also thinks that he can feel Tom’s eyes linger on him more often than before, or that Tom presses more closely to him at night, but he disregards it as wishful thinking on his part.

When they’re not searching for the chamber and Harry doesn’t whip the Quidditch team into shape, Tom imposes endless hours of studying for their OWLs and NEWTs on them, only interrupted by never-ending questions about Harry’s plans after graduation.

Harry has no idea, until after their Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, a scout for the Falmouth Falcons approaches him, and a month later he signs his contract for the seeker position after school. Tom appears to be caught between his low opinion on Quidditch and being proud, but the fact alone that he _cares_ is enough for Harry to be happy. He doesn’t intend to play Quidditch indefinitely anyway, his plan is to take Tom travelling when he finishes school and to decide what he wants to do after they have seen more than southern London and Hogwarts.

They finally find the chamber during the Easter holidays in April, late at night after Tom had pestered Slytherin’s portrait long enough to finally receive a hint.

Harry is lost in thought, slowly walking around and letting his fingers travel over the marble walls when Tom’s voice makes him stop in his tracks.

“You know, it’s said that Slytherin hid the Basilisk here to purge the school of unworthy students.”

He says it like he’s talking about the weather, and for long moments, Harry can only stare at him. The dim, green light paints eerie shadows on Tom’s face and he absentmindedly wonders when Tom has gotten taller than him, when he became so godforsaken _beautiful _that it nearly hurts to look at him and, most of all, why these kinds of statements still manage to catch Harry off guard.

He shakes his head as if it would help to get rid of those thoughts and sighs. “You can’t release a Basilisk into the school, Tom. I can’t believe I even have to say this.”

Tom takes a few steps towards him, his eyes intense and too bright in the flickering light and Harry’s heartbeat instantly increases. By now it happens so often that he fears he’ll die of a heart attack before he reaches his 50’s.

“Why not?” Tom asks, coming to a halt right in front of him, head tilted slightly as if honestly curious for the reason.

He swallows, trying to ignore the feelings this closeness elicits in him and to concentrate on keeping Tom from murdering students instead. “Well, first I’m pretty sure they’d close the school. Second, you can’t just attempt to murder students, and last but not least, you and I would be considered unworthy in Slytherin’s opinion, so it would be rather hypocritical.”

It’s not the best case he ever made, but he can feel Tom’s breath ghosting over his face and he’s smiling that blasted, soft smile, so Harry thinks that should be taken into account as mitigating circumstances.

“Hm, we can’t have that, can we? Because I’m pretty sure you’re anything but unworthy,” Tom murmurs softly and steps even closer.

Tom’s fingers curl into the collar of his robes, and before he can even process what he’s doing, Tom is kissing him, just brushing his lips against Harry’s, as if he’s afraid one of them might break.

Every bit of breath leaves him and when Tom pulls back, Harry slips his hand into his hair, keeping him there and kissing him again, unable to stop now that he finally knows how this feels. He can feel Tom smile against his lips and tentatively licks along Tom’s bottom lip, who instantly opens his mouth a bit and responds in kind.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathing heavily and unwilling to let go of each other just yet. Harry wants to ask a hundred questions, but then Tom says: “You didn’t think I would let anyone else have you, did you?” and if he’s honest he doesn’t need to know anything else, because yes, maybe he should have known that this was inevitable.

“You know, they would have liked you better if you hadn’t cared for me. They only found you weird because you were with me.” Tom breaks the silence after several minutes that they spent motionless, their foreheads pressed together, and it takes some time for Harry to understand that he’s talking about the orphanage, and maybe even Hogwarts.

He furrows his brows, wondering what brought this on. “You know I don’t care, Tom. I’m yours and you’re mine, and I wouldn’t leave you if you’d let me,” he says seriously, tugging softly at Tom’s hair. “Besides,” he grins, “you were a very cute child, so I’d say it’s their loss.”

“I most definitely was _not_ a cute child!” Tom huffs indignantly and Harry laughs, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose which only makes him scowl harder.

“Oh, you were. You followed me around as soon as you could move on your own. It’s not like I ever stood a chance,” he smirks, but he knows that Tom can hear the fondness in his tone.

That doesn’t keep him from growling and pushing Harry up against the wall behind him. Their kiss now is harsh and bruising and a little sloppy, teeth clashing and glasses digging into his face, but Harry only pulls him closer.

It’s all so unmistakably Tom that it makes his heart swell and soar to nearly painful levels. He knows that Tom will always be ambitious and possessive, that he’ll never be what others would consider a good person, that there will probably be a hundred more occasions where Harry has to stop him from releasing the metaphorical Basilisk into a school full of children, but he’d to it a thousand times if he needs to.

After all, he has cared for Tom for longer than he can remember, and it doesn’t matter if it’s by making sure he doesn’t fall and scratches his knees, or by keeping him from spiralling into darkness. 


End file.
